


Between You and I

by keirajo



Series: The Love of Romance [11]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Karaoke, Love, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Sex, Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-18 12:58:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18700087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keirajo/pseuds/keirajo
Summary: The Lost Light............the ship and crew has experienced many things.   And it's a given, that if the experience is weird enough--it's going to happen to a member of the crew.   And no Cybertronian has had a heat cycle in millions of years--so who's the least likely person on the Lost Light to have such a thing happen to.........?Megatron's very lucky he has a spark-mate who loves him and can keep up with him to get through such an experience.





	Between You and I

**Author's Note:**

> There's not a lot of descriptive interfacing and I know a lot of people use a heat cycle experience to do non-stop sex scenes.........but as this series focuses more on love and romance in the ongoing relationship of Megatron and Rodimus, that's why there isn't.
> 
> Rodimus gets to use some of his beginning medical skills...........as well as his love for Megatron to take on the role of taking care of his partner and that's what I wanted to portray--the role reversal of these two.

**_ Between You and I _ **

 

 

            Rodimus finished reading what was on the datapad in his servos and then lowered it so that he could gaze at Drift appraisingly and hopefully.

            “ _Wow_.   I mean……….I _knew_ Megatron wrote poetry, but I never realized it was so…….. ** _wow_** ,” Drift responded, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.

            “I know, right?   And he wrote it for **_me_**!”  Rodimus gushed, holding the datapad to his chest and grinning like an idiot.   “I mean, maybe I don’t get all the imagery and stuff, but I **_love_** it!”

            Drift chuckled, happy that his Amica was happy.   If only because of all those old chats they used to have and all, Drift knew that Rodimus never had many things he could truly call his—so when he was given something only for him, the flame-colored mech was very happy.   He’d once picked up a rock on Earth—it was plain and grey on the exterior, but fractured down the middle, showing some glittery parts inside of it………….and it was one of many things that Getaway had gotten rid of when he got rid of Rodimus and the others.   Rodimus loved having things he could call his own and he was saddened by the losses of such things.

            “You really _do_ like Megatron, don’t you?” Drift asked, smiling at his best friend.

            “ _Of course!_ ”   Rodimus said, a pouting tone in his voice.   “Look, he was the universe’s worst enemy once, but……… _you know_ ……… ** _you_** were also not a very nice person and I gave **_you_** a chance, right?   And _we’re_ friends,” the flame-colored mech said, softly.   “And it isn’t as if **_I_** wasn’t responsible for a bajillion deaths, too.”   The look on his faceplate turned sad as he stared at his knee-joints.

            “A bajillion is _not_ a real number and you had no choice in Nyon—you _couldn’t_ save them all and you know that,” Drift admonished, lightly, reaching over on the couch to take his Amica’s servos gently.   “I just worry, because of who Megatron was and how violent he had been with old lovers—not that I think you could call any of them _‘lovers’_ , honestly.”

            Despite a few uncomfortable moments like **_this_** happening between them now—things had gotten back to normal for Drift and Rodimus’ relationship…… _their friendship_.   They chose to make the Amica Endura bond with one another, pledging friendship forever.    The _Lost Light_ had gotten the upgrades and chose to join this universe’s Galactic Alliance, then had gotten back underway in their exploration of this new universe.   Life was settling back to something of a “ _normal_ ” for everyone now—and by this time the whole crew had heard about Megatron and Rodimus’ Spark-bonding, so the rumour mill now was taking bets on how long it would go before there was a formal Conjunx Endura bonding.

            “He’s _not_ like that anymore, Drift—just like you’re not _Deadlock_ anymore, you know?”  Rodimus said, his frown deepening.   “Primus………are you actually _trying_ to piss me off?”   He groaned.

            Drift, incycled a breath and then exvented slowly.   “ ** _No_**.  _I’m sorry_.   I shouldn’t have said it,” the white-and-grey swordsmech murmured, squeezing the flame-colored mech’s servos gently.   “He _does_ make you happy?”  Drift asked, softly, reaching one servo out to caress the side of Rodimus’ faceplate.

            “ _He does_.   He watches rom-coms with me and reads me poetry that I don’t get, but sounds beautiful when he reads them……….and he’s willing to _cuddle_.   Nobody I’ve ever been to berth with has ever wanted to cuddle,” Rodimus murmured, softly.

            All of the sudden, Drift erupted into laughter, his grasp of Rodimus’ servo and faceplate falling away as he rolled back onto the end of the couch, unable to stop his laughter.  “ _Oh………..oh Primus………..Megatron………cuddling………..!_ ”  Drift panted, exventing hard and then erupting into new laughter.

            “ _Jeeze, Drift!_    Is that _really_ so hard to imagine?!”   Rodimus groaned, holding his datapad with his poem close to his chestplate.   “You and cranky ol’ Ratchet together is a lot harder to imagine, to be honest!”   He added with an epic pout.

            Drift sat up, still snickering a bit.  “Ratty has his charms.   Honestly, I _shouldn’t_ be so worried and everything.   It upsets you and I’m not trying to do that anymore.   And you’re right, people really _can_ change,” the swordsmech murmured.

            “ _Damn straight_ ,” Rodimus snorted.   “Megatron is _wonderful_.   And he’s **_mine_** ,” the flame-colored mech added, smiling happily as his fingers brushed the datapad with his poem on it again.

            Drift couldn’t help but smile as Rodimus said that—the flame-colored mech’s field was rippling with love and fondness.   His best friend _deserved_ to be in love and have someone who loved him, too—and it would be cruel of Drift to try and take that away, just because of what Megatron once **_was_**.   Even Megatron deserved the chance to change his ways and his fate…………and maybe loving Rodimus would be a good catalyst for that change.   The former Decepticon soldier even realized that for Megatron to go as far as to Spark-bond meant something special and real.

            “ _OH!_    I gotta get to the medi-bay!   It’s time for me to get to work!”   Rodimus gasped, jumping up from the couch.   He set the datapad in a subspace pocket in his forearm and dashed out without even saying good-bye to Drift.

            “ _That’s_ even a nice thing to see, too,” Drift chuckled to himself as he watched his friend eager about doing something that was important to him.   He got up and walked to the door, just as Megatron was coming into the hab suite that belonged to him and Rodimus.   “You just missed him,” the swordsmech chuckled.

            “That’s all right.   He’s _very happy_ at working in the medi-bay for a few hours of his shift every day,” the former Decepticon Leader responded with a smile.   “It’s pleasant to see him acting honestly more like himself, instead of the mech that hated himself more than anything.”

            “ _Yeah_.   I can appreciate that, too.   You’ll take care of him, won’t you?   He’s a lot more fragile than most people think— _emotionally_ ,” the swordsmech asked, looking up at Megatron with a serious expression on his faceplate.

            “Not to get a dig in here, but _you’ve_ hurt him a lot more than I have.   I only killed him once, your emotional damage lasted longer,” Megatron said firmly.

            Drift winced, but……….he couldn’t deny that Megatron was right in what he said.   He _hadn’t meant_ to hurt Rodimus that badly—he’d been unaware of how attached the flame-colored mech had become in their relationship.   He’d done what he did to spare Rodimus the hatred and scorn of the crew, he never had the intention of breaking Rodimus’ Spark.

            “ _Yes_.   And I’ll do what I can to make up for that, so make _damn sure_ you never make my mistake,” the swordsmech said in a very threatening tone.

            “ ** _I_** intend to show him how cherished he is—and to protect him for as long as we both live,” Megatron responded, not intending to get into a verbal duel with the younger mech before him, but somehow getting pulled into it anyways.   “I intend to recharge now, so I’d _prefer_ you leave, Drift,” he said, firmly.

            The swordsmech nodded and left the hab suite.   He hadn’t meant to nearly start a fight, but he still had a thorough wariness of Megatron.   But Rodimus was right—once Drift had been just as cruel and murderous as Megatron had once been.   Drift had no right to desire redemption if he wasn’t willing to offer the same to Megatron— _it truly wasn’t fair_.   He was being just as short-sighted as everyone who joined in the mutiny and he had to be better than they were.

            “I hope Ratty can spare a few moments for me, because now I’m in a mood and I hate being like this,” Drift muttered as he started stalking his way to their hab suite.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            “This is where we keep bedding supplies in bulk,” Velocity said, grinning happily.   “We have some handy stores in the subspace pocket of each medical berth, but if you run out and need more blankets or pillows or thermal tarps— _this_ is where we keep them.”

            Rodimus nodded, committing that to memory………..as well as a datapad he was writing notes on for his internship here in the medi-bay.   When he came in, one of the first things Velocity showed him was how to neatly make a medical berth with padding and sheets and all of that.   She had a cute little way of pinching the corners of the fitted sheets around the edges of the berth padding that Rodimus had attached to and tried to emulate.

            “Velocity.   When you decided to become a medic, did _you_ have the dermal sensor net flaring up, too?”  Rodimus asked as they walked out of the storage closet and back into the main part of the medi-bay.

            “ _Oh, hoo-boy, **yeah**_.   It was **_so_** stressful and I was already stressed out about my medical training,” the teal-and-white colored femme laughed warmly.    “I’ve _always_ wanted to be a medic, pretty much since I came online.   Nautica can tell you how stressed I was over my medical training.   When they started teaching me about my dermal sensor net—it involved a lot of mediation and things like that.   It’s hard to meditate when you’re stressing out over every little thing.”

            “I cannot bear sitting quiet and still for all that long,” Rodimus chuckled.

            “It also involved trained medical professionals throwing random emotions at me to see if I could bear them—all while meditating, then while I was working!   I think it took like _a hundred years_ before I got my dermal sensor net under full control,” the Camien femme responded with a grin.   “How’s it been since you and Megatron Spark-bonded?   Has it eased some of the pressure on your emotional status?”   She asked.

            “I think, maybe……….. _a little bit_?   I just feel echoes of him everywhere and _I just_ ……..I think my emotions want to chase that, instead of glomping onto the emotions coming at me,” Rodimus said, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.    “It’s hard to explain, I guess.”

            “No, I think it’s explained _pretty well_.   You’re in love, so you’re chasing the feelings inside you instead of worrying about what everyone else is up to around you.   It’s _good_ to be in love—that’s something that’s right and healthy,” Velocity said, reaching over and patting Rodimus’ shoulder with fondness.

            Rodimus smiled as he plopped down into a chair.   “ _It’s_ ………..I’ve _always_ wanted this.   You know, to be wanted and needed…………. _and loved_.   Megatron…………I can feel that he cherishes me, you know?”   He said, softly, pulling out the small datapad with the poem Megatron wrote for him on it.   He brought it up and handed it to Velocity so she could read it.   “And he gives me things that just kind of boost me up, right?   And that helps me be better as a person,” he added as she read it, smiled and handed it back to him.   “Little things like that.   A poem, a kiss on top of my helm…………a hug when I really want one…………. _it’s all everything I’ve ever wanted_ ,” he whispered, gazing at the datapad with absolute fondess.   “Nyon was………I was _very young_ when Nyon was still shining and I don’t remember it too well, just how sparkly the lights were, _like the stars_.   So most of what I truly remember is the desolation and all the people that didn’t abandon the city got sick and were dying.”  Rodimus hugged the datapad to his chest.

            Velocity sat down in a chair next to him and reached over to hug his shoulders warmly. 

            “It’s funny, because the ones that stayed— _that I took care of_ —they all seemed so cheerful most of the time, despite the situation.   I heard all **_the best_** stories about the Knights of Cybertron and their grand epics and the quest.   The fueling situation……….well, I’ve got an efficiency system and I was born like that.   So, I _never_ needed more than a few sips of Energon usually.   I gave most of the Energon I scrounged up to everybody else,” Rodimus said, quietly.   “I _loved_ Nyon and its people.   And it _killed_ me to burn it all.”

            “Life is difficult enough when you’re young, but to make a decision like that is something that lingers within you forever,” Velocity murmured, rubbing his helm gently and still hugging his shoulders.   “Move on, though.   Everyone you took care of in Nyon—I don’t think they’d want to see you punishing yourself forever about it.   I think they were all aware of the situation, you didn’t abandon them when you clearly could have—you spared them from being used and destroyed by Zeta Prime, if I recall my history of the situation right.”

            “ _Yeah_.   It’s like…………I _know_ all this, but………..I still have a hard time convincing myself about it,” the flame-colored mech sighed.

            “ _Oh_ , hey you two,” First Aid said as he came into the room.   “What’re you two doing lounging around, we’ve got some file organizing to do!”   The small medic laughed.   “Come on, let’s get those afts up and get to work!”

            Rodimus laughed, too, and Velocity chuckled.   The both of them stood up and let First Aid boss them around for the next hour until Ratchet came in, mumbling, with his derma and armour all clean and shiny.   Rodimus recognized a Drift polish job right away and wondered why Ratchet seemed like he was in a testy mood instead.   Getting a polish job from Drift was _definitely_ on one of the more pleasurable sides of things.

            “What are **_you brats_** all staring at?”  Ratchet snapped as he felt three sets of optics on him.   “This is _your_ fault, Rodimus—he was in a mood because of you and I don’t appreciate surprise afternoon frags.   Now you brats better get to work before I come over there and punch my servo into all of your faceplates!”   The old medic growled, stalking back to his office.

            “Most people would be happy for their lover’s attentions at any time,” First Aid snickered softly.

            “I know **_I_** would be,” Rodimus chuckled in response.

            “I think he is—he’s just embarrassed about it.   It’s probably weird to be the elder and the one on the receiving end,” Velocity whispered, leaning in close to both the flame-colored mech and the shorter ship’s CMO.

            “ _That_ explains a lot,” the flame-colored mech murmured, grinning.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            “ _Karaoke night?_    **_Really Rodimus?_** ”  Megatron groaned.

            But to be perfectly honest, he had a hard time trying to deny Rodimus things like _this_ —especially when the younger mech had his arms wrapped around the former Decepticon’s bulky frame.   And those slender fingers dug deep into the treads on his back—Megatron hadn’t even revealed it was semi-erotic every time Rodimus did that.   It was very hard to keep his focus the more the younger mech pushed his digits into the treads, as well.

            “Well, _you_ don’t have to sing……….but maybe you’d like to listen to me sing?”  The flame-colored mech said, tilting his head up to look into his older lover’s faceplate.

            “I suppose it wouldn’t be too bad.   How long did you plan to stay?”  Megatron asked, not quite coming out and saying he’d hoped to just spend the evening together doing pleasurable things—because that would be quite obvious.

            “Well……..an hour or so—I wanted to sing at least two songs, maybe.   But depending on how many people wanna sing, I may need to wait my turn,” Rodimus answered, rubbing his cheek on his bigger lover’s chestplate.   “C’mon—I know you’re not social, but you should try to get out more.   And it makes me more comfortable around groups when you’re there, too,” the flame-colored mech said, his tone pleading and hopeful.

            “Is this about Drift?”  Megatron grunted.

            “ _What?_    Why are you saying _that_?   It has _nothing_ to do with Drift, I just wanted to do _fun things_!”  Rodimus cried, pulling away and looking up at Megatron with disappointment on his faceplate.

            Megatron reined in his jealous emotions and reached over with a gentle servo to cup the flame-colored mech’s chin, then leaned over to kiss his forehead tenderly.   “He was close to picking a fight with me earlier.   I _don’t_ appreciate it, Rodimus—I’ve tried _very hard_ to be a kinder individual,” the former Decepticon Leader murmured softly.

            “ _Ugh_.   I’m sorry he did that.   Maybe I need to hold back the friendship a little further if he’s going to get like that,” Rodimus groaned, his shoulders slumping with dejection.   “ _I know_.  And **_you_** should get out and do things to show you’re not hiding any secrets with your anti-social behavior.”   He reached up and grabbed Megatron’s servo that was cupping his chin and pulled it into a grasp between both of his.   “C’mon, big guy—come out with me and show ‘em all that you can be a _social butterfly_ like me!”  Rodimus giggled kissing Megatron’s fingers lightly.

            “More like a _social mammoth_.   I’m not good at these things, my little flame,” Megatron mumbled, a slight tone of pout in his vocalizer.

            “You’ll get better,” Rodimus said, moving close and hugging his older lover once again.   “Like me and this medical dermal sensor net thing……….it’ll take time and you’ll get better at being not-so-anti-social.”

            “I suppose,” the grey-colored mech sighed, wrapping his arms around Rodimus and holding onto him, gently.   He _knew_ he should go, to protect Rodimus emotionally as well—it was the least he could do for his beloved and spark-mate.

            Even after determining he should, it still took Rodimus just a little bit longer to coax Megatron to come with him to Swerve’s for karaoke night.   They looked around for seating and managed to find a single, large lounging chair in a corner, which had a little table beside it for a drink stand.   Rodimus didn’t think _he’d_ be sitting much anyways—and if he did, he could _always_ sit in Megatron’s lap.   After all, it wasn’t like the crew was utterly unaware of their relationship and plenty of other couples or pairing offs of individuals were cuddling with each other already in the bar.

            Swerve came over to get their drink orders and then Rodimus hopped up and went over to Blaster to put his first karaoke request in.   Currently on the stage was Hound, singing some kind of rock ballad from Earth.   Megatron leaned back into the lounger and politely thanked Swerve when he returned with the drinks.   Rodimus was back soon enough and plopped down in Megatron’s lap, taking his light Engex and sipping.

            “There’s about three people ahead of me, _so_ ………….. ** _oh_** , but I picked a pretty epic Earth eighties song.   You’ll have a laugh riot with hearing the words, but I’m pretty good at singing it, so…………!”   Rodimus laughed, warmly, squeezing an arm around Megatron’s waist and turning his head about to watch Hound finish up his rock ballad.

            “It seems like most of the music Swerve has in his bar is Earth stuff—does he not have _anything_ else?   Nothing from _Cybertron_ at all?”   Megatron murmured, as close as he was to Rodimus’ audial he didn’t have to speak loudly, despite the music.

            “Well, he’s got a few albums that the crew who’ve formed bands put together.   I think during the war there was no way to get and keep the music of the past or present,” Rodimus whispered back.   “Oh, he might have some **_Flatline Stone_** if you ask—if you even know who _they_ are.”

            “They were something of a dark, hard beat sounding group, weren’t they?”  Megatron asked.   “I recall a lot of their stuff was used in the gladiator pits…………. ** _gah_** , I always _hated_ that they played music in the arena.   What was the point of music during combat?”   The former Decepticon Leader grumbled.

            “ _You should know_.   To make it **_entertainment_** and not just people slaughtering each other,” Rodimus sighed softly.   “You give anything a _‘soundtrack’_ and it takes a bit of the _‘reality’_ away from situation.”

            Megatron nodded and leaned his helm against Rodimus’ on his shoulder.  The younger mech was most likely right.   Most of the people who attended the gladiatorial combat back on Cybertron were the rich and affluent—the ones who’d never actually be in the pits themselves.   Adding music probably made the whole thing seem like an untrue holo-vid drama and allowed those who kept supporting the gladiators and the combat to not accept they were basically slave-trafficking and the like.

            “So, what are you going to sing?”  Megatron asked, gently nuzzling Rodimus’ neck cables with fondness.

            “ ** _Oh!_**    It’s this stadium rock song called _‘The Final Countdown’_ by a band called _‘Europe’_.   **_Love_** the music!   Lyrics are a laugh, though, but it’ll be fun—and you sing karaoke to have fun,” the flame-colored mech chuckled.   “If I get a chance to sing a couple others—I’ll find some power ballad and then some kind of fast-rocking tune.”

            The former Decepticon Leader chuckled.   Rodimus was clearly into doing this kind of stuff.   Well, it didn’t hurt to let his little lover have fun like this.   And at least he had a corner mostly to himself, even though Swerve’s was crowded tonight for the karaoke fest.   He could just sit back, enjoy some nice Engex and watch his beloved spark-mate have fun singing silly Earth songs in front of everyone.   If Rodimus stayed in a good mood—then Megatron would get a reward when they got back to their hab-suite later.   _A very good reward_.   Rodimus was quite energetic about interfacing now that he’d gotten past the pain—and the better the mood he was in, the more energetic he was about fragging.

            Megatron was sure part of it was that the dermal sensor net was more sensitive the looser Rodimus was with himself………and probably very easily picked up on the former Decepticon’s lust.   Because Megatron really, _really_ loved fragging Rodimus……….he loved the way the smaller mech’s frame felt beneath his, the curves of his derma and arches of his armour.   He loved the soft and tight feel of the valve as it clenched and rippled around his spike.   And Megatron loved the various sounds Rodimus made while they made love.   As the younger mech had loosened up in their relationship, he’d allowed himself to become more vocal as they interfaced and his range of sounds was _beautiful_ —which was why Megatron knew that when Rodimus got up on stage, he’d be able to sing these silly Earth songs perfectly.

            Megatron got to see the great lover— _and beloved_ —that Rodimus of Nyon could be.   Something no one else had ever had the opportunity to see before!

            “ _Hey now_ ,” Rodimus laughed, softly, reaching over his servo holding his Engex and flicking a single finger on Megatron’s helm.   “No getting _too horny_ here and now, Megs—you promised I’d get to go and sing.   You get to frag me all the time and if we spend all our time in the hab suite on our time off, people will start silly rumours!”   He chuckled.

            “As if they haven’t already,” Megatron teased, giving a playful bite on a section of his lover’s neck cabling.   “They are merely jealous—that **_I_** am the one who won your Spark.”

            Rodimus leaned his head on Megatron’s, giggling softly.   Megatron was kind and honest—words probably no one would ever have applied to the Leader of the Decepticons.   And he loved his “ _being physical_ ” with his partners—which he was very honest about.   Megatron had gotten Rodimus past the pain of interfacing and showed him how to enjoy it a lot more.   There were new positions, new areas of the frame caressed………times when it was slow and luxuriant, as well as times when it was quick and exciting.

            “ _I love you, Megatron of Tarn_ ,” Rodimus murmured, planting a kiss on the bulkier mech’s helm tenderly.

            “And **_I love you_** , Rodimus of Nyon,” Megatron responded, nuzzling the flame-colored mech’s neck cabling and nibbling fondly.

            In a few moments, Blaster called Rodimus up for his time at the mic.   The flame-colored mech grinned and hopped out of his lover’s lap, making Megatron take his light Engex glass before he dashed up on the stage.   He announced the name of his song and took the microphone.   Rodimus grinned and swayed his frame as the long intro began to play, then when it came time to belt out the lyrics, he was into it very enthusiastically—moving his whole body and motioning with his free servo.   His tone and pitch were spot-on and when he was done, there was a massive wave of applause from everyone in the bar.   Rodimus bowed and grinned and then skipped back over to plop back down into Megatron’s lap after stopping by Blaster’s table to put his name in for another song.

            “By Primus, what _ridiculous_ lyrics,” Megatron groaned, but he smiled as Rodimus grinned at him.   “You sang quite well—and put on nice show.   You didn’t just sing, either—it was a _true performance_.   However, all that did was charge me up even more,” the grey-colored mech purred, stroking his glossa up the back of Rodimus’ neck cables.

            “Wait until you see me sing a power ballad,” Rodimus giggled, swatting his lover’s shoulder playfully.   “I promise, we’ll go _after_ I sing another song, okay?”  He added, seriously, lightly kissing Megatron’s chin and nipping lightly.

            “Come now, we’re in this dark corner and it’s so noisy, surely we could try a public fragging and no one would even give us notice?”  Megatron teased, biting lightly at the neck cables, his systems cycling higher in charge.

            Rodimus was a little flustered and swiveled in Megatron’s arms to grab the top of his lover’s helm to steady their gazes.   “ _Wait_ , are you……..?   **_Oh, Primus……..!_** ”   He murmured, his optics glowing brighter as he realized just what was going on.

            **[Magnus!   Change up the duty roster for the next three days!   Megatron’s in no condition for bridge duties—or any duties!]**   Rodimus said, desperately in a comm-link to his friend and second-in-command.   Then his head swiveled over towards Blaster as he comm-linked the communications officer.   **[Gotta duck out, Blaster, sorry!   I really wanted to sing more, but……..I gotta go!]**

            “Up, you—back to the hab suite _NOW_!”   Rodimus snapped, shooting to his pedes as he tugged on Megatron’s arm.

            “Mmmm, decided to take my side of things?”  Megatron purred, leaning over to lick Rodimus’ neck cables again.

            “Take your side?   Hell, Megs—you’re slipping into a _heat cycle_!”  Rodimus groaned.   “Move it, **_NOW_**!”  The flame-colored mech commanded, trying to push on his lover’s solid bulk.   “No one’s gone into a heat cycle in like…….. _forever_!   Not even me—and **_I’m_** as hot as they come!”   He sighed.

            “I’m just charged up Rodimus, _very charged up_ ,” Megatron said, trying to keep his voice soothing, but he was really horny and wanted to frag right now.

            **[What’s wrong, Rodimus?]**   Came Ultra Magnus’ comm-linked response.

            **[Megatron’s slipping into a heat cycle.  I’m gonna need the room to stay locked for the next few days and I’m likely not going anywhere, either!]**  Rodimus responded as he managed to get Megatron to get moving back towards their hab suite.   **[ _Slag it_ , I’m gonna need Energon brought up, too—we need to keep fueled or there’ll be health problems by the time it abates.   Get First Aid to bring me a crate of Medical Grade and Premium Grade!   We’ve got a bit of Regular Grade in our hab suite, but………..]**

            **[Shall I code-lock your hab suite for three days once you get there?]**   Ultra Magnus responded.   Rodimus heard some static during the communique, meaning he was probably on the intercom to the medi-bay to get the Energon sent to the hab suite right away at the same time.

            **[Good idea.   Can’t possibly have anyone walking in on us during _this_!]**  Rodimus’ internal voice groaned.   **[At least now that I’ve got him moving towards our room, because he’s anticipating nothing but fragging, we should be good for now.   He hasn’t fully gone into it yet, but his interface-drive’s flared up over one-hundred percent!]**

            **[Not that I concern myself with those things, but isn’t he usually like this with you, Rodimus?]**   Ultra Magnus inquired.

            **[ _Uh_ , sure………….but not in _PUBLIC_ , Magnus—he told me we should just go ahead and frag in the bar and nobody’d notice us!]**  Rodimus snapped in response.

            There was a very long pause before Ultra Magnus responded next.   **[You may be right, then.   He has the patience to wait for it, not demand it out in the open.]**   Then another little pause.   **[First Aid should be meeting you at your hab suite…….]** he said.

            **[Thanks, Mags………I appreciate it!]**   Rodimus sent.

            Rodimus saw First Aid with a cart outside their hab suite and gave a deep sigh of relief.   “Sorry to interrupt your rest cycle, but…………I’m getting pretty frazzled by this, already.   Nobody’s had a heat cycle in like a billion years, why **_now_**???”   The flame-colored mech groaned, pushing Megatron into their room as First Aid wheeled the cart in behind them.

            “True, but………..remember, we are on the _Lost Light_ —the strange and bizarre happens to us all the time.   And who’s the **_very least likely_** to have a heat cycle on this ship?”  The small medic laughed warmly.   “Now, remember—Premium Grade within the first forty hours, Medical Grade in the later eighty hours.   Do you remember _why_?”   He asked, glancing at Rodimus even as he used a portable scanner to scan Megatron—who had obediently gone over to the berth.   Megatron looked like he was now trying to gain control of himself and seemed out of sorts, rather than outright horny anymore.

            “To revitalize burnt out nanites and and heal the flared circuitry and capacitors,” Rodimus answered, immediately.   “Should I take any of the Med or Preem—or should I just be okay with Reg?   He asked.

            “The bulk should go to Megatron, but you should have half-a-can for every two cans you give him.   Remember, as a Spark-bonded mate— _you’ll_ have responsive cycles to his heat cycle,” First Aid answered.   “Megatron, can you turn around so I can look into your optics and oral cavity?”

            “ _My_ ………..my apologies.   _I hadn’t meant_ ……..” the bulky grey mech murmured, turning around and leaning down so First Aid could reach up to his faceplate.

            “Nonsense—I actually appreciate data like this.   If it didn’t sound so voyeuristic, I’d ask for you to record everything!”   The little ship’s CMO responded with a chortle.   He shined a small light into the faded crimson glass of Megatron’s optics and watched the iris attempt to cycle against it—but the irises were fully dilated.    Then he gazed into the mouth and saw the glowing, swollen nodes deep in Megatron’s intake, showing that a flood of stimulation fluids had been flushed into his system to boost the heat cycle.   “Rodimus, come here.   I want you to look—see those glowing, swollen nodes back there, deep in his intake?”   He asked as the flame-colored mech stood behind him, peering over his shoulder.

            “ _Yeah?_ ”  Rodimus responded.

            “Those are pumping stimulants into his system, activating the heat cycle urges.   You’ll know when his heat cycle is ebbing, because the glow will fade and they will shrink in size and be only about ten-percent of the size they are now, perhaps less,” the small medic said, firmly.   “If it means anything to you, Megatron is a _sire_.   And we spoke of your tests— _you are a carrier_.   A heat cycle is a perfect way to try and forge new life, if you guys want to—but you’ll have to Spark-bond again during it, for the ignition.   Sparks are both more receptive and more fertile at this time.”

            “I’ll remember that,” Rodimus answered.   “Does this mean Megatron will have a regular yearly heat cycle now?”   He asked, knowing that all the old stories he’d heard about the activity said it had once been a regular occurrence for Cybertronians—whether sparklings were conceived or not—and happened on a yearly basis.   Basically up until the war started—then all system programs and protocols began to be denied in all individuals for such a luxury as a heat cycle.

            “I can’t say for certain, but it _does_ mean he’s finally relaxed enough to let his systems operate his body more _naturally_ ,” First Aid said, stepping away and putting his equipment back in the subspace pack at his side.   “Congratulations, Megatron—you are now a _completely normal Cybertronian_ ,” he chuckled, giving a cheerful little salute as he left the room.

            **[Magnus, lock us in for the next three days.   Should anything change, I’ll contact you and the medi-bay,]** Rodimus sent to his friend via a communique.

            **[Good luck, Rodimus,]** came Ultra Magnus’ polite response, as well as a light tone of amusement in his comm-link voice.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            The first night was clumsy and awkward and Megatron was extremely moody.   After drinking some Premium Grade Energon—and complaints that it was far too rich for his palate—Megatron just was kind of moody and grumbling, rather than acting horny as he’d been at the bar.   Rodimus cuddled and tried to reignite the mood, but his lover was clearly going to fight it all the way.   He’d even said, during a coherent moment as they laid down on the berth to try and get some sleep, he was sorry he’d lost control and would try harder to straighten up—to which Rodimus said that this was a time to actually lose control and it’d be just fine.

            Megatron slept fitfully, waking up many times—with a few of them having him being massaged eagerly by Rodimus, all the way to overload.   But when he’d woken up completely, he was trapped in the throes of his heat-cycle and plastered himself to Rodimus’ frame as if he wanted to just melt into the flame-colored mech.

 

**/mineminemineminemine\**

 

            Rodimus almost went into a heat cycle himself, based on the utter and shameless possessiveness in Megatron’s field as a large servo rubbed hard at the flame-colored mech’s groinplating.

            “You in there at all, Megs?”  Rodimus murmured, reaching up to caress his lover’s faceplate.   He noted the old, crimson glass of Megatron’s optics were practically at a melting point of glowing……….irises were fully dilated.   “Probably not anywhere that can hear me, I think.”

            Megatron leaned down and nuzzled Rodimus’ neck cables hungrily, nibbling and nipping.   Rodimus could hear heavy incycles and exvents of breathing and noted the intensity of the bulkier mech’s cooling fans going at full-blast.   His engines were revved and rumbling.   The flame-colored mech decided he’d better open and let his lover have his way or it might get rough and Megatron would probably kill himself when he’d regained his senses if he learned he had been rough with Rodimus.   The very instant he opened his valve panel, he felt Megatron’s thick spike slide in—a little roughly, but the younger mech was rather lubricated enough so that it was not completely painful.

            The bulkier mech grunted as he thrust his hips hard and quick—it was strange to see such a silent and mindless side to Megatron as this.   The mech was always intelligent and cool and patient—he always had words, no matter what the situation.   Yeah, Rodimus had heard stories of his massive aggressiveness when he was Leader of the Decepticons…………..but _that_ was a different time, with his flawed systems and altered mind and frame.   Rodimus smiled and reached a servo up to cup the back of his older lover’s helm.

            As if that touch were very much desired, Megatron leaned in and purred old and rough Cybertronian words to him, even as his hips kept ramming hard against the younger mech’s.

            “ _Be with me always, my love,_ ” the ancient words translated to.   Rodimus knew those old words, because………he’d seen some theatrical and holo-vid performances that would use the phrase.   It was a common phrase in old Cybertronian.   And used in all the _best_ Cybertronian drama programs he’d ever watched.

            Somewhere in the depths of the sex-fogged brain of his lover was still a small bit of the Megatron he knew and loved—and that made an intense moment like this even more precious than it already was.   Megatron overloaded, groaning deeply, and almost collapsing on top of Rodimus………but some small part of him managed to roll over onto his side next to Rodimus.   He fell into a doze and left the flame-colored mech wondering how long the heat cycle would actually last.   Would Megatron actually have any more coherence at some point—could they talk about whether or not they should try to forge a sparkling at this time?   The younger mech turned to his side, to look at Megatron and fondly reached over to kiss his parted lips.

            “ _Nnnnnhh_ …….” the grey-colored mech mumbled, softly.

            “Hey, you—wanna sit up and drink some Preem?”  Rodimus chuckled, warmly, bringing a servo up to caress the familiar, lined faceplate.

            “Sorry, I’m…….” the older mech whispered, his optics glowing brightly, as he onlined and looked at his little lover.

            “ _Shhhhh_ , you,” the flame-colored mech chuckled, placing a couple fingers over Megatron’s lips.   “During your heat cycle, you **_need_** to keep properly fueled—let’s sit up and have another can of Preem, okay?”   He added, sitting up and hopping off the berth.   He grabbed a large can of Premium Grade, opened it and took a few sips before handing it to Megatron, who had just sat up on the berth.  “Drink up, Megs,” he said with a big grin.

            “How long will this last?”  Megatron asked, rubbing the right side of his helm as he took the can in his left servo and drinking from it.  He made a severe face of distaste.  

            “Historical records say three to four days, I had Magnus lock us in here for three,” Rodimus responded, a light tone in his voice.   He knew why Megatron didn’t like drinking Premium Grade—it was because he’d been forbidden or hadn’t actually had it in nearly a thousand years, so the taste was likely very thick and intense to him.   “You got some thinking going on in that head now, Megs?”  He chuckled, leaning forwards and hugging his lover tenderly.

            “Not much.   Still wanna frag……… _wanna_ ………” he trailed off, looking down at the flame-colored mech hugging him and then tore his gaze away as he drank a long hard pull from the can of Premium Grade Energon.   His body began aching and throbbing with sexual need again.

            Rodimus looked up and placed his servos to the sides of Megatron’s faceplate.   “Did you want to try and forge a sparkling right now—or is that still a ways off for us?”   He asked, trying to make the discussion short and sweet and just a single word answer if possible.

            Megatron looked into his optics and was very quiet for a long several moments.   “ ** _Not_** _……….not now,_ ” he finally managed to whisper.

            “All right—then let’s just frag ourselves silly for the next few days, okay?   No more worrying about anything at all,” Rodimus chuckled.   “ _Stop worrying_ and just let your body surrender to these instincts so you can get past it—okay?   I’ll be with you the whole time, _I promise_!”  The flame-colored mech added with a big grin.

            “ _Can you_ ……….. ** _will you_** be able………….to endure it all?”  Megatron whispered, drinking some more from the can of Energon, trying very hard not just to grab his younger lover and throw him onto the berth to frag him into oblivion.   His whole frame was torturing him with lust and need.

            “You took care of me all this time…………it’s _my turn_ to take care of you, Megs.   **_I love you_** ,” the flame-colored mech said, smiling up at Megatron.

            The former Decepticon Leader considered himself very lucky that if something like this really had to happen to him—at least he had Rodimus to see him through it.   He smiled as the flame-colored mech climbed up onto the berth and pushed him back.   Megatron’s body ached with charging need, but arched so easily and eagerly into Rodimus’ touch as his lover brought him to overload again and again through the day—with long naps in between the intense frag sessions.   Rodimus made sure to give Megatron Premium Grade for the first forty hours, as he’d been instructed to by First Aid.

            Megatron made “ _ick_ ” faces every single time he drank a can of Premium Grade.   It was highly amusing to Rodimus—and charmed him greatly at his older lover’s small bit of childishness.   The “ _ick_ ” faces would probably be much more amusing once they got to the Medical Grade—the taste of it wasn’t as thick, but it was a lot stronger with more minerals and healing fuel additives in it.

            For time spent doing nothing but interfacing and showering and sleeping—the three days went rather fast to Rodimus.   The third day had the most intensity to Megatron’s heat-cycle yet.   Rodimus knew even **_he_** couldn’t keep up with the intensity and had to resort to promising his needy and powerful lover some massaging and spike-sucking to take care of him between the actual physical interfacing portions of the day.   There were so many positions used that day and so much attention and so much time spent awake!   The naps were not as frequent and Rodimus had to practically blackmail Megatron’s lust-filled brain into drinking the Med Grade between fragging sessions.

            In all, Rodimus was merely sore at the end of it.   It was a small price to pay, to make sure Megatron made it through the heat-cycle in good health and in a fairly good mood.   Then, after a long bit of recharge, Megatron woke up in full command of his senses and his EM field rippled with concern as he saw Rodimus’ disheveled frame next to him on the berth.  Scrapes and smudges marred the lovely, slender frame……..and Megatron found some dents in the armour portions.   The concern in his field started mixing with a little worry and despair as he reached out to caress his younger lover’s faceplate.

            “ _Mmm_.  Hey, you awake, big guy?”  Rodimus murmured, turning towards him and smiling happily.   “How do you feel?”

            “ _Coherent_ , but what about you…….?   _Your frame is…….?_ ”  Megatron whispered, his voice full of static and worry.

            “Oh, hey—it was _intense_ , that’s for sure.   But you were _so energetic_ , Megs!   And you were happy………and it was weirdly sweet to feel that utter possessiveness in your field,” the flame-colored mech chuckled warmly, reaching over and placing one servo on the side of Megatron’s faceplate, while the other rested over the Autobot brand on his chest.   “Hey, open your mouth—lemme look at those nodes in your intake.”

            Megatron couldn’t help but smile—Rodimus’ medical training was appearing and it was a good thing.   He opened his mouth and Rodimus shone a pen-light down into it.

            “No swelling anymore—the glow is practically non-existent,” the flame-colored mech said, firmly.   Then he shone the light into Megatron’s optics and noted the proper cycling of the optic orbs beneath the old crimson optic glass.   “Optics functioning _normally_.   And you feel a lot more normal, Megs?”   He asked, grinning at the mech he loved so much.

            “ _I do_.   I feel fine, if a little sore,” the grey-colored mech responded, smiling wanly.

            “Got one more can of Med Grade for you to drink,” Rodimus chuckled, pulling away to sit up and tugging on his lover’s shoulder to make him sit up, too.

            “ _Must I_?”  Megatron groaned, sitting up and watching his lover hop off the berth to grab the last two cans of Energon off the cart First Aid had brought to them at the start of all this.

            “Yes, you **_must_**!”   Rodimus laughed, handing one of the cans to him, then he opened his can and swigged down half of it right away.

            Megatron made the best of all “ _ick_ ” faces yet as he drank all of the can in a single go.

            Rodimus drank the rest of his can and then put both of the empty cans on the cart with the others.

            “Your frame is………” Megatron began, unable to look away from the smudges and dents.

            “ _Hunh?_    Oh well, I’ve been meaning to get a good detailing done soon,” Rodimus laughed.   “Come on, you.   Let’s take a shower and look presentable before we go down to the medi-bay for a post-frag-marathon checkup!”   He said, tugging gently on Megatron’s arm.

            “Rodimus, you’re _really_ okay?   I wasn’t too……….. _rough_ with you?”  The grey-colored mech asked as he slowly clambered down from the berth and followed his lover to the washrack.   “And I don’t remember much, did we…………?”  He began, a little afraid to ask if they tried Spark-bonding to forge a sparkling.

            “You said you weren’t ready, yet,” Rodimus answered.   “I’m not sure I am, either.   But if _you_ wanted to, then…………I’d’ve been up for it.   We can talk about it more and maybe, if you go through this again in another year or so, we can try for it _then_.”

            Megatron nodded and they both began scrubbing each other thoroughly, just reveling in one another’s company for a bit longer.   The older mech realized that there was nothing but happiness and love in his younger lover’s field and chose to accept that what happened, **_happened_** —and Rodimus of Nyon still loved him through the whole thing and beyond.   _He’d found a good spark-mate—Megatron of Tarn was the luckiest Cybertronian in all existence._


End file.
